


Fall or Gun?

by Anime_Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:56:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anime_Holmes/pseuds/Anime_Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has been constantly haunted by Sherlock's death. He finally decided to visit Sherlock's grave for the first time in the six months of his death. He has finally had enough and decides to end it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall or Gun?

A haze fell over John's eyes. Lights flashed and suddenly he was on the roof of the hospital. The phone felt hot in his hand. "That's what people do, they leave notes?" John spoke shakily through the phone. Sherlock screamed. John could see the fear in his eyes. Spreading his arms like he could fly, John leapt. John was soaring through the air and BANG! He shot out of bed, sweat beading on his forehead.   
"Oh John not again," Mrs. Hudson chided as he recounted his dream to her for the fifth time this week. Always the same dream. If Sherlock hadn't jumped off the damn building! It should have been him, not Sherlock! Not that beautiful man! His eyes, oh John could get lost in them. His near-translucent skin looked baby soft. Sherlock's voice was the best. John didn't care if Sherlock was mad at him he just wanted to hear that deep baritone ringing in his ears. Sometimes he still does. That brilliant psychopath, "High-functioning sociopath, John." There he was again.   
John had barely touched the tea Mrs. Hudson had kindly prepared when he shouted, "I'm going out!" He didn't wait for a reply as he swung on his jacket. It was a cool afternoon. It usually was. John shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn't know were to go. Finally, making a decision, he hailed a cab. "Damn cabbie!" This is here Sherlock's height came in handy. John resorted to walking. He needed it anyway. Since he was walking at a brisk pace, John approached the tall iron gates, looming in front of him like his regret and pain. He never visited Sherlock's grave in the six months he'd been dead. He never had the guts to. It didn't matter. He knew Sherlock was dead, there wasn't any changing that. As he walked in, he located the tall sleek gravestone. Sitting down in front of it, he stared at the crisp lettering for a solid five minutes. "I just, erm, thought, ahem, I should come. You know. I'm talking to a fucking gravestone!" John muttered. All John felt was sorrow. He was overflowing with it in fact. "Oh Sherlock, why did you do this to me? I've sat in the flat for six months, poor Mrs. Hudson tending to me." What would this do? All day he would he would cry, wallow in his sadness. "There isn't even a point in living. Not without you. Did you even think about me? Surely you could deduce how I feel about you!" Suddenly, the gun hidden in his belt felt heavier. He always carried it, just in case. Oh but John could end this, his life wasn't worth it. After all, who could live without their sun, their, moon, their day, their night? John was shivering, not from the cold, but his own sobs, he pulled out the sleek weapon. "They'll find me soon enough. I won't even need a note. Molly will know why, clever girl. Sherlock, I'm coming." 

Epilogue  
As if time had slowed, Sherlock observed with horror at the sight before him. He had been living in the cemetery for six months. He was forced by Moriarity to fake his death. Finally his John came to see him. Of course he deduced how John felt about. Sherlock felt the same way. The thought of John being safe was the only thing that kept him going. Now his John sat hunched over his gravestone with a gun to his head. "John no!" Sherlock screamed. John's fingers went loose on the gun as it fell to the ground. He whipped around. "Sherlock?" He sobbed. John furiously ran towards Sherlock and grabbed his coat collar, winding up for a punch. He searched Sherlock's eyes, and yanked his face in. John pressed his damp face close to Sherlock's. He pressed his lips onto Sherlock's. Sherlock's tense body relaxed into John's touch. Sherlock pressed his lips into John's. He just barely teased John with the tip of his tongue when they pulled apart.   
"I love you."  
"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys this is my first fic so thanks for reading!


End file.
